


Summer Swelter

by gentledusk, littleliontree (gentledusk)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Silly, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7425775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentledusk/pseuds/gentledusk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentledusk/pseuds/littleliontree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meyer is stripped to the waist, even missing his ever-present hat, looking at Augustine like he expects him to be able to use higher brain functions in his sweaty, half-naked presence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Swelter

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt](http://littleliontree.tumblr.com/post/142326053899/meyer-legitimately-does-love-lemon-flavoured): Meyer legitimately does love lemon-flavoured stuff, especially lemonade. The first time Sycamore walks in on him on a scorching hot day, shirtless, overalls around his waist, and drinking a lemonade with a semi-orgasmic expression on his face, he actually trips over a tool box.
> 
> Not meant to be taken seriously in any way, shape, or form. With that said, onwards!

_Today’s got to be the hottest day of the year_ , Augustine thinks, mopping his brow for the umpteenth time. While it isn’t uncommon for him to go out for a stroll and “end up” wandering in the direction of Meyer’s little shop, he’s beginning to seriously regret leaving the air-conditioned bliss of the lab for the sweltering streets of Lumiose. Even the Gogoat plodding down the road are looking a little sluggish today. Not that he’s faring any better—his hair is plastered to his head, his clothes are sticking to him in uncomfortable places, and he’d like nothing more than to strip naked and lie face down on the nearest cool surface (or at the very least, strip his shirt off), but he isn’t sure he wants to end up on the cover of Lumiose’s trashiest tabloids the next day.

After what seems like an eternity, Meyer’s shop finally comes into view. The familiar sight of it is enough to put a bit of a spring into his last few steps to the door. When he opens it, the gust of cool air that follows envelops him in such utter bliss that it takes him a few moments to register that his favourite repairman is absent from behind the counter. In his place is Lumi, the Ampharos perched on her little stool beside the counter facing the door. When she sees she has his attention, she points to the back of the shop where Meyer’s workshop and presumably the man himself can be found.

 _I really need to stop being so predictable_ , he thinks as he thanks her and heads for the workshop anyway. Then the sight that greets him there causes him to forget about that plan, and all other plans, and everything other than staring, slack-jawed, at the sight in front of him.

“Come to visit again, have you?” Meyer asks with a grin, glancing up at him from his position on the floor. “So is this a social call, or have you got something that needs fixing?”

 _What needs fixing_ , Augustine thinks, faintly, _is my ridiculous fixation on your bare skin_. And there’s quite a lot of it to look at, right now—normally it’s just a flash of collarbone, or forearms bared by rolled-up sleeves. Now, however, Meyer is stripped to the waist, even missing his ever-present hat, looking at Augustine like he expects him to be able to use higher brain functions in his sweaty, half-naked presence.

“Uh, sorry it’s so hot back here,” Meyer says when the silence starts to drag on. He gestures to the far corner of the room. “I’ve got the fan on, but the AC doesn’t really do its job that well back here, you know? I can grab you a can of lemonade if you want? Water?”

“I’ll get it,” Augustine croaks out through parched lips, stumbling out of the room and back to the front of the store.

Lumi looks at him oddly, but refrains from commenting (not that he’d be able to understand her very well, anyway), instead hopping off her stool as he heads behind the counter. She cranes her long neck over his shoulder as he grabs a can of lemonade, so he pops the tab on it and hands it to her before grabbing two more for himself and Meyer.

 _All right_ , he thinks to himself as he approaches the workshop. _You can do this. It’s just Meyer, sweaty, half-naked Meyer with his sweet dimpled smile and his glistening muscles on display and the fragrant flavour of oil—_

“Argh!” _Thud. Thud._ He bangs his head on the wall.

“Augustine?” Meyer’s voice floats over from the doorway. “Is everything ok?”

 _Well, here goes nothing,_ Augustine thinks as he strolls as nonchalantly as possible into the room and immediately trips over Meyer’s toolbox. His arms flail wildly as he starts to pitch forward, but instead of face-planting into the hard floor, he finds himself crashing into a broad, sturdy wall of muscle that turns out to be Meyer’s torso. It must have been nothing less than superhero reflexes that let him leap up and catch Augustine so quickly.

“Are you all right?” Meyer asks, though the question sounds faint and far away. Meyer’s chest is very hairy, and very muscular, and very, _very_ naked, and he’s being held right up against it like a swooning heroine from one of those romance novels Cosette is so fond of. 

“I-I, uh,” he stammers. He thinks it’s a miracle that he managed to say anything at all considering that he’s close enough to Meyer to feel his body heat and inhale his fragrant oil smell.

To his eternal regret, Meyer pulls back to look him over with an assessing eye, though he continues to hold Augustine up as if he might keel over again without warning.

“I’m fine,” Augustine says in a voice that’s a bit higher than he’d like, trying his best to look like he won’t be having sinful, sinful dreams about Meyer’s glorious pecs and abs for weeks to come. “Just a little lightheaded from the heat, I guess. I brought the lemonade.” He holds up the two cans he’d miraculously managed to hold onto despite his little spill. Maybe an ice-cold drink is just what he needs right now to cool the fire in his heart (and loins).

Meyer takes one last look at him before letting him go and accepting the can held out to him. He bends over to move his toolbox out of the way while Augustine busies himself with opening his own can and absolutely not staring at the curve of Meyer’s ass.

He’s just raising the can to his lips when he hears the _pop_ of another can being opened, and he gulps down some of the lemonade to cool his head before risking a glance upwards. This turns out to be the biggest mistake in the long series of mistakes he’s been making today, because Meyer’s eyes are closed and his head is tipped back and droplets of condensation are trailing down the curve of his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and makes the most thoroughly indecent sounds Augustine has ever heard being made over a drink. He hadn’t known that Meyer appreciated lemonade so much—oh, he’d known that the man enjoyed his lemon-flavoured goodies, sure, but not to _this_ degree. He throws his own head back to take another swig of his own drink and hopefully alleviate his sudden intense thirst, but he swallows too quickly and ends up coughing violently instead. A large hand rubs at his back—there Meyer goes again, moving without him noticing—until the coughing and sputtering subsides.

“You seem pretty distracted today,” Meyer says. “Something on your mind?”

Augustine’s heart stutters in his chest, both at the words and at the little smile on Meyer’s face. Does he know that he’s the reason Augustine is making a complete fool of himself? _Not that you need a reason,_ an exasperated voice that sounds a lot like Sophie says in his head. “I-I’m fine! Just, er, thinking about… Mega Evolution. I-In fact, I should be getting back to the lab!”

A light touch to his shoulder stops him before he can run off. “You sure you don’t want to use the washroom first before you go?” Meyer asks innocently. Is it innocent? Augustine can’t even tell anymore. “You seem to have a bit of a problem.”

His eyes flick downwards before he can stop himself to see nothing out of the ordinary, which is about the same time his hand flies up to his nose and comes away covered in blood. “Y-Yes. I’ll do that. It’s probably just because of the heat.” He winks at Meyer in a last-ditch effort to salvage his “suave” reputation. “No thanks to present company.”

He’s not sure what kind of reaction he was expecting, but the playful grin and the brief pose Meyer strikes while flexing his biceps _definitely_ wasn’t expected at all. And neither was the strangled whimper that crawls its way out of his throat in response. Is it just him, or is his nose bleeding harder than it was before? He decides to flee to the washroom before his “little problem” gets any bigger and he passes out from light-headedness or something.

“Come again!” Meyers calls, waving cheerfully, and Augustine very nearly trips again on his way out the door.

One thing’s for sure though: he’s definitely going to be keeping a lot more lemonade in the lab from here on out. Just in case.


End file.
